On the Eve of Hallows
by A-Spirit
Summary: SSHP slash! COMPLETE. They had become the things that others feared... But, they had come home together.


**Disclaimer:** The characters belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Warning: They might be OOC.**

**Pairing:** Severus/Harry.

**Rating: R**

**Summary: **They had become the things that others feared.

**Author's note: **Darker than I thought it would be. I seemed to have developed some exhibitionistic tendencies.

**Challenge: **Written for the LJ 'Writing Witches Halloween Challenges'. My prompt was "Things that go bump in the night".

**Author:** **_Spirit_**

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_**On the Eve of Hallows**_

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Leaves crunched loudly beneath his feet as he slowly and unsteadily made his way through the forest. Branches scratched at him, deliberately or accidental. He could see the light of the full moon as it managed to escape past the green of the trees that formed a semi-canopy above him. There were no sounds of animals because there never was. Not in this forest anyway. From what he could remember the animals of this forest preferred to watch or wait. They were always waiting now in anticipation even though the end had finally come.

He wrapped his black cloak tighter around himself, to fight off the chill of the October night as he stumbled, bumping into trees that seemed to step into his path. His usual steady and silent gait was gone as he stumbled over rocks and roots. Hands stretched before him, he tried to clear a way before his eyes but the hood of the cloak narrowed his vision and the night forced him to rely more on his sense of touch than his eyesight. He could only hope that his feet still knew the way to the castle he was approaching.

In the distance he thought he heard a wolf howl. Lupin? He wasn't even sure if the man was still alive.

He stumbled some more, struggling a little as vines caught at his legs and the ground seemed to belch up more and more pebbles and rocks in his path. Each determent was a warning and he could hear the censor in the slight breeze that caught and rustled leaves and dirt every once in a while.

_You are not welcomed here. This is no longer your home._

Yet he never listened. He travelled this journey only once a year and it had only been four years since he had left. He liked to think that he knew this place, that he still loved it. He liked to think that one day he would be invited and welcomed once again. But as he stumbled along rock paths, scraped his palms against course tree barks and bruised more than his pride every so often as he stumbled or crashed into the unforgiving ground or the even more vindictive landscape, he knew not to hold his breath for such an offer.

He had abandoned everyone and had been dubbed a traitor. There was no one of his old life who would wish to even speak to him again much less be in his company. And although he knew why he did what he did and he was one of the few who were there at the end, he carried his guilt like a cloak, which he wrapped like an armour around himself.

As the castle came into view through the thicket of trees, just visible enough for him to feel its magic and power, he understood that this was the only way to remember. This man, who slinked in shadows, was who he had become. He was now a memory, forgotten or hated. He was a thing that stirred the night. Bumped. Bruised. Unwelcome. Even the ground despised him he realized when he scratched his knuckles as he reached out to grab a fistful of dirt from the forest ground.

On this Halloween night, when the dead was celebrated he chose to celebrate a life he had taken with the tip of his wand and a stream of green light.

"Tis now the very witching time of night. When churchyards yawn and hell itself breathes out contagion to this world," Severus Snape whispered, releasing the dirt slowly from his enclosed fist and watching as it fell like water in the night air. "Now could I drink hot blood and do such bitter business as the day would quake on."

"Shakespeare? I have to admit that I like Hamlet too."

There was no rustle of leaves or unflattering stumbling. The forest cooperated. In fact the entire atmosphere seemed to change as if the air was purging itself. Where Snape had not been welcome, this other intruder of the Forbidden Forest was.

"There is something haunting in the light of the moon; it has all the dispassionateness of a disembodied soul, and something of its inconceivable mystery."

Harry walked out into the little clearing that Snape stood in. He brushed at his own black cloak and spent a second trying to coax a tuft of hair away from his clear green eyes. No glasses now. He was taller than Snape remembered. Older too. But his hair was still not long enough or tamed enough to truly hide the faded scar on his forehead. In his hand, his wand dangled casually, but Snape knew the power of that wand. He and everyone else had learned to respect the magic that this wizard possessed.

"Joseph Conrad," Harry said with a slight tilt of his head as he stopped just inches away from Snape's still body. "He wrote 'Heart of Darkness'. Something I always thought was befitting of you Snape."

He reached up slowly, as if to calm a wild animal. He grazed his fingertips lightly down the lines and curves of Snape's face. He may not have been able to see the other wizard's expression behind the hood and the night, but he could feel the warmth beneath his touch and he could feel the silk of smooth flesh, no doubt as pale as always.

"This thing of darkness, I acknowledge...mine." Harry breathed the quote before he slowly retracted his fingers. "Shakespeare again."

Snape was silent, staring at Harry, but the moonlight was not strong enough to discern the expression on his face.

He could still feel the warmth of Harry's touch. It had been so long since he had been touched. It was too long since the last time anyone had wanted to be near him and even longer since there was gentleness and comfort. He wondered, as destroyed as he was now, if he still deserved compassion. But perhaps this was not. So he lashed out to hide the things that stirred inside of him as he looked upon this man for the first time since the night they had stood on either side of a dark wizard.

"Harry Potter." He spat the words out as he used to do when he was a professor in the castle and the boy was a student he could insult. "Should I fall to my knees and worship you now? Do you expect me to beg you for forgiveness or redemption?"

And Harry's eyes narrowed in anger. "I never asked for any of it."

No he had not. Not for the scar on his forehead that had sealed his fate. Not for the death of everyone he had ever looked up to. Not for a Dark Lord's power which he had inherited the moment he had ripped Voldemort's soul to ruin. Not for fame. Not for blind devotion.

No, but he still got it all.

"Forgive me if I don't quite pity you," Snape responded. "From my perspective Mr. Potter you have won. I am nothing and you are revered. I killed a great wizard and you saved the world. I am despised and hunted while you do as you please. It would seem to me that my destiny has always been to be beaten and embarrassed by the Potter wizards. I should have learned this lesson a long time ago, yet I am the fool who thinks he could repay a debt to someone long dead."

But Harry couldn't stand to hear this.

He moved again, closer still. Reaching out again he tugged the hood off Snape's head and then spent a moment tracing Severus' face again, this time running his fingers through the lanky hair that was still long enough to brush thin shoulders.

"Then what is this between us? It hasn't been hatred for a while."

It was a question that Snape could not answer.

For four years he fought on the side of the dark. He had been willing to sacrifice his soul if it meant that he would be amongst people who believed in him and never doubted his loyalty. Yes, he had killed Dumbledore, but for a good reason. He had killed even more wizards after that. He had become the things that others feared, but he liked to think that it had always been with a purpose in mind. So he had helped as best as he could. He had left clues and notes of warning. And he had protected the Boy-Who-Lived because a long time ago he had promised a powerful, trusting wizard that he would.

"Why?" The question sounded like a haunting. It had tormented Harry, and now he wanted to know. "Why were you always there to save me. In the shadows you were there to guide me. At nights when I would lose my way you would point me in the direction I should be. When I was tired and I hurt you helped me. And then you would disappear and not let me tell you thank you. Always the things that go bump in the night but never there! I didn't need you to help me! Why did you?"

"Stop it!"

Snape's voice ripped the still air. He too thought of all those days and nights when Harry tried to track the Dark Lord, from one part of the globe to the next. He thought of the wizard who had been beyond determined. Even when his friends could not follow him anymore he would apparate and enquire and run and fight for hours. He would scream challenges into the night air, begging hell to give him aid if heaven was too far beyond him. And hell had answered. Because in those moments when Harry would be delirious from exhaustion or magically drained, Severus would nurse him back to health with potions only a Potions Master would have.

Harry dug his fingers into his hair and turned away.

All Hallow's Eve. Of course. On this night when he could be anyone else, he was standing here with the man he owed his life to too many times over, and he didn't know how to say anything he wanted to say. It was a year since he killed Voldemort, but he had still spent months of his life in tracking and searching for another. Now that he had found the wizard he sought he could only feel the things he swore to himself that he would not give in to.

"Look at me," Snape commanded. He had not spared the boy so many times to watch him break.

When he turned around Harry's eyes swam with tears, but they did not spill. As if by sheer will he was holding the silver drops back. His hands shook and somehow he looked younger than his twenty years. Brave he was, but he had been through so much more than others his age. Snape knew. He had watched him, been there with him, protected him and fought for him and in the end he had killed for him too. And it had not always been for the reasons he had told himself.

"Trick or treat?" Harry asked softly as he regained control of himself.

Never one to take the easy way, Severus's eyes returned the intensely challenging look before he made his choice. "Trick. Let's see what you can do."

And Harry smiled for the first time that night. "Then why don't we give them something to really be afraid of."

He raised his wand towards the sky, taking a deep breath as he prepared his thoughts. Then he began to chant. The words poured from his lips like a river rising to a building crescendo, ebbing and flowing like a tide. Above him, in the sky the air was changing to a slow aurora of colours and the wind began to strengthen as it gathered around them.

And then the sounds began to spew. A banshee screamed, piercing the night. Then a wolf howled a calling to other wolves that made a choir of barks and growls. There was a rumbling as if the ground should be shaking. And there were snaps of twigs and the sounds of something stumbling. A child was crying and someone else was being ripped to shreds in very graphic sounds. The gurgling of blood could be heard, as there was pleading and the scrambling sounds of trying to escape a pursuer.

It was a simple magic trick. Any Seventh Year Hogwarts student could have done it. But not any student would have the graphical material to pull from their memory. The sounds were like a recording of the things that Harry had heard and seen. Snape knew because he had been there to watch as Muggles were murdered and Harry had fought himself to exhaustion trying to save them.

The strength of the spell made the younger wizard glow. The power he was oozing, called to Severus as if there was an Imperius Spell being cast. He wanted to fall to his knees and pledge his soul to such power. He wanted to lick every inch of Potter's body in hopes that he could taste the magic that flowed around this wizard. Snape had always loved power and this wizard was now the most powerful of all.

Instead he raised his wand and added his own chants to the sky, watching as his own colours mixed with Harry's in a way that would make the spells last for hours. He listened to the sounds of his own memories come to life. Heard the breaking of bones and the begging. There was always the begging and crying. There was always the rush of spells and screaming. There was always the beating of the human heart thumping from the rush of adrenaline and then slowly falling silent as it was cursed or ripped away from the body that housed it.

Snape looked at the wizard whose green eyes glowed like a Killing Curse and he wanted to feed off that power.

Without much thought, he reached out, pulling Harry towards him. His mouth closed over Harry's lips, cutting off sound or words. His tongue plunged past a groan that was either his or Harry's and he plunder the mouth that opened up so willingly to him. The kiss was demanding and searching. Severus wanted a taste of Harry's soul but he wanted to please him too. He needed to hear the moans and to feel the warmth of Harry's fingers against his face.

But one kiss wasn't enough.

So he tore at Harry's clothes, wanting to feel skin against his skin. He licked a pathway from Harry's ear down to the side of Harry's neck before he was finally able to remove the black cloak that guarded Harry from the cold night air and the frantic movements of his fingers. Shirt open, he licked the curve of Harry's collarbone and continued to kiss and suck and taste. Collar. Chest. Nipples. Abdomen. Navel. He dropped to his knees as he worked to open the button on Harry's pants. And then he tugged pants and underwear down, to pool at Harry's knees.

"No. Don't." Harry protested, but Snape was too far along to heed the warning.

He took Harry between his lips, sucking him into the hollow of his mouth. Fingers slid into his hair as he did and they grasped tightly as Harry's seemed to lose the strength in his legs. But out of nowhere, there was a tree upon which Harry could brace himself. Breathing through his nose Snape slid the hardened flesh out of his mouth, before following its path back to the musky scent and the course texture of the hair at the junction of Harry's legs.

Harry's cry mingled with the scream of a banshee. His moans mixed with the howls of werewolves and the keening, gasping breaths he took added to the wails of ghosts. Each time he tried to hold back a response Severus would hum or suck in a way that had the younger wizard begging in garbles of words and sounds. When he finally orgasmed it was deep inside Severus' mouth with Severus drinking his release greedily, milking every drop of fluid from him.

And then the fingers in his hair twisted, pulling Snape away from his prize.

Harry slid down the bark of the tree, not being able to stand any longer. He was panting harshly but still he found the strength to pull the wizard kneeling before him towards him. He knew his grasp was probably hurting Snape, but a part of him was so angry he didn't care.

"Don't you ever do that again!" And the tears came. This time they left tracks down the side of Harry's flushed cheeks, but he refused to acknowledge them. "I am not a god to be worshipped! I don't need you to be on your knees before me. Don't you ever bow before me like that again. I won't have you serve me and I don't ever want sex to be about power."

His voice broke as he sobbed. "I don't want your allegiance. I'll take anything else you offer but not that. Not like this."

Severus' fingers cupped his cheek, wiping away the tears as he tried to calm him. He wanted to apologize but knew that he couldn't. He had always loved power and had always been drawn to it. He always wanted to serve those who held power. This was who he was. It was something that he had realized long ago and he had never tried fighting it before.

"I can't help it," he finally said as honestly as he could as he bared his soul to Harry Potter for the first time. "I know only how to serve."

"Not true," Harry responded softly.

He untangled his fingers from the clumps of hair that he had been tugging on. Instead he grasped the front of Severus' cloak and pulled him until the other man was near him. Then he wrapped his arms around Severus' shoulders, burying his face at the side of Severus' neck.

"You're stronger than anyone credits you for. You're so much braver than any Gryffindor I know and you're not just a servant. You're nothing I thought you were actually. You might like power but you don't follow it blindly like you try to tell yourself that you do. And you're not evil no matter how many evil things they had you do."

Harry's lips found Severus' again, and this time the kiss was slow and searching.

They explored each other through taste and sight and the guide of their fingers. Beneath them the hard ground became a plain of leaves that cradled and protected them as they discarded clothes and shoes. The leaves crunched as they rolled together wrapped into a tight embrace, kissing every inch of each other's body. They tried to replace their past with the surreal sense of the moment they were creating. This thing was what had stood between them when they had formed their own little alliance and had killed a Dark Lord together. They belonged only to each other, as equals now because as equals they had fought hell and heaven to have the opportunity to be together.

Harry wanted to merge their souls but since he couldn't do that, he did the next best thing.

Closing his eyes, he focussed on the way their bodies curled into each other. Listening to the sound of the spell they had created together for the night as their own form of purging. He wanted other words and sounds to neutralize the darkness that each of them had carried throughout the years away from the castle in the distance, where each of them had left the best parts of their souls.

He moved his body, revelling in the feel of having Snape inside of him and never wanting to ever have to face his world or darkness alone ever again.

Cocooned in each other's arms some time later, they listened to the last of their Halloween spell as it drifted and dissipated. They tried to count the stars or to touch the moon. They talked about mundane things like the last time they had been at Hogwarts, before the headmaster had been killed and before the world had been shot to hell with the tyranny of Voldemort. They laughed together in a way they never would have conceived to do during their time as professor and student. Sitting on a bed of dried leaves, with the moon as their light and Hogwarts still standing as impenetrable and proud as the founders had meant for it to be. They had come home together.

"The day is for living and the night is for the dead," Harry said quietly.

He was sitting cheek to cheek with his back pressed into the thinner chest of the wizard who was holding him. Arms were wrapped protectively around him and warm legs were pressed on either side of him. On a night celebrating death and the evils of the world, Harry had never felt safer.

"We are not dead," Severus whispered back to him as he licked on the perfect shell of an ear.

No they were not.

They would never be the wizards they had been in the beginning. Hogwarts would never accept them as they were because they had both been dipped in enough darkness to set the wards on full attack mode. They had become the things that others feared. And in the morning when the Eve of Hallows was over, Harry would still be a hero and Snape would still be an outlaw.

But for now, they had each other, even if like everything else, it was in secret.

**X-x-X**

_fin_


End file.
